Black Blood: The 64th Annual Hunger Games - SYOT (CLOSED)
by Malrkyian
Summary: 24 new tributes will convene once again in a deadly arena where only one can escape. Treachery and deceit will occur as ally turns against ally. Twenty-three will end up forgotten. Only one will be remembered in history. CLOSED as of 11/18/2017, do NOT submit.
1. Pre-Reaping Information

Welcome to the 64th Hunger Games SYOT. This is my first SYOT and I wish to get straight to the point already, so here's what's going on.

I am currently in high school, and I am also employed at a part-time job. As one can imagine, that doesn't leave much time left after everything is said and done with. However, I will try to get at the very least, an update out a week, though I hope I can get two updates out a week.

Also please do note that I like to bend the universe of a story to fit my needs and purposes when writing a fanfiction, so don't expect everything to be exactly the way it is in the books. For example, all victors, and therefore mentors will be entirely made up of original characters.

I do have a few rules for Tribute Creation. Here they are:

1\. The hard maximum on the number of tributes a single author can submit is four.

2\. When entering information for appearance, personality, and the history/bio, I want a paragraph of text, which I find to be enough for me to use in a story. Keep in mind that the more information you give me, the more I can write your character the way you will want it to be written. The less information you give me, the more I will have to infer.

3\. When you submit your character, you give me the ability to write that character in whatever way I see fit.

4\. The amount of weaknesses has to be around the number of strengths. I do NOT accept Mary Sues.

5\. Applications need to be submitted to me through PMs. It makes it easier for me, and applications submitted through reviews clog up the review section, and make it harder for me to manage. I will ONLY accept applications submitted through a PM.

Here is the form.

Name:

Gender:

District:

Age:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Token(Optional):

Likes:

Dislikes:

Appearance:

Personality:

History/Bio:

Family Members:

Sexuality:

Reaped or Volunteered(Why if Volunteer?):

Weapon(s) of Choice:

AnyAdditional Information:

Also, please keep in mind, I don't fuss too much over tropes, such as being a volunteer, or such. As long as they're not a carbon copy of a character from the books, and they don't violate any rules I have above, they will in all likelihood be accepted

* * *

List of Tributes:

Upper slot is male, lower slot is female.

 **District One**

Alarik Emory - 18 - Golden Moon Huntress

Venita Emory - 18 - Golden Moon Huntress

 **District Two**

Flynn Grazer - 15 - kealimepie

Blaire Paxton - 18 - hollandgayle

 **District Three**

Elliot Finn - 13 - CandleFire45

Azalea French - 13 - kealimepie

 **District Four**

Malicys Relthorn - 18 - _Anonymous_

Avery Niche - 17 - AlphaZero21

 **District Five**

Charles-Edison Manzar - 17 - No-role-models

Anne Elelem - 18 - BabyRue11

 **District Six**

Zayden Barker - 17 - cjborange

Riley Hawk - 16 - luluthefox

 **District S** **e** **ven**

Phyto Forchhammer - 18 - No-role-models

Maple Eevens - 15 - laterglader

 **District Eight**

Thomas Aaron - 12 - CandleFire45

Penelope Batiste - 15 - The Wandering Phantom

 **District Nine**

Barric Jasso - 14 - laterglader

August Morley - 18 - paperairline

 **District Ten**

Dexter Cutting - 16 - Aldon Blackreyne

Thyme Seine - 15 - Rubbleof13

 **District Eleven  
**

Arkady Thisbe - 16 - MessyModgePodge

Saika Waratah - 13 - Golden Moon Huntress

 **District Twelve**

Collin Lyons - 16 - luluthefox

Petunia Wellworth - 14 - Professor boo.k

This list will be updated each time a new tribute is accepted, and until all slots are filled, I will list needed tributes at the bottom of each chapter.


	2. District 12 Reaping

**A/N: Please do keep in mind that my own headcanons will be in affect for this story. That is all. Here is the first reaping.**

* * *

 **Petunia Wellworth - District 12 Female - 14**

The sound of my drunk uncle resonated through my ears as my body awoke, despite his yells having been let out the night before. I didn't understand why my Uncle James and Aunt Sophia were so mean and rude to me, and perhaps I never would. When my Aunt and her family had been evicted, my father and I had let them stay with us, and what did they do to repay us? They treated me like rubbish. It had been nearly seven painstakingly long years since my dad died. I didn't even really know what he died _of_. He hadn't felt well the night before he passed, but for him to die the day after was strange and surprising.

I could barely remember my father's face, save for that it was the face of a man who was... caring. It was the face of a man who worked himself half to death just to make sure there was food on the table, clothes on his family's body, and a roof over their head. It was the face of a man who would fight through exhaustion and play with their young child, and hug them, and love them, and care for them. It was the face of a man who tucked their child in to bed each night and sang them softly to sleep. Ironic, that I could remember all those characteristics, yet not remember the actual face of my father.

My drowsiness was cut away by the sound of dishes being scrubbed. Slowly rising from the floor, letting the thin blanket covering me fall to the ground, I saw none other than my best friend Linda working away at the sink, cleaning the few dishes that were there. Slowly creeping over, I sleepily muttered, "I can help you, if you want."

Linda turned to me and smiled, shaking her head at the same time. "No, it isn't that big of a deal, Petunia." She set a newly washed plate down beside her on the dish rack. "Besides, my mom would kill me if she finds out you took a chore for me."

I shrugged and trudged back over to the spot on the floor where I slept and rolled up my blanket. Most of the time I ended up staying over at Linda's house, as staying at my home with my aunt and uncle tended to be _very_ unpleasant. I had become friends with Linda two years ago, when I was at a very dark point in my life. It was when my aunt and uncle were at their worst when it came to treating me. Just when I felt alone, Linda had found me and talked to me. She was my friend when I was at rock bottom. In a way, she gave me something to live for, and that was a debt I could never repay.

A realization slammed into me like a truck. It was reaping day. God no, it was reaping day. Taking a deep breath, I took a sip of water from the glass I had left out the night previous and calmed myself. Similar to most other kids in the District, I took tesserae. Uncle James used to work as a supervisor at one of the many coal mines in 12, a job which, when compared to many others in the District, didn't pay too bad. However, he got himself fired for neglicting his duties on the job, a position which Linda's father now holds, ironically enough. Aunt Sophia bounces around a few different jobs, as does my older cousin by two years, Lucy. Lucy also takes tessarae, although she tries to focus on her studies and doesn't interact much with the family at all anymore.

Gathering my things, I looked over at Linda. "I should get going, ya know, to get ready for today. I don't want my aunt to be even angrier at me than she already will be." Quieter now, I said, "Thanks for letting me stay over, again."

Linda turned from the sink to face me. "Yeah, don't mention it girl. I have to get dressed here in a second too. Let's hope our names don't get drawn today, yeah?"

Nodding, I smiled and left her house. For all I knew it could be the last I saw of it.

* * *

 **Collin Lyons - District 12 Male - 16**

The sound of my grandfather knocking on the door roused me from my deep sleep. His old and kind voice seemed to float through the air, "Wake up, Collin Arthur Lyons. Breakfast is ready." Forcing myself up from the bed, I tripped on a floor board on my way over to my wardrobe and almost fell. Accidentally letting out a curse, I heard my grandfather scold me from the other room. What a great way to start a Reaping Day. I supposed I never was the most graceful person to live in District 12. My clumsiness wouldn't serve me well the day I went to work off in the mines, similar to his father, and his father before him: my grandfather.

I most certainly did not want to work in the mines, but it was inevitable. My knack for history won't exactly get me anywhere in 12, and going to school for a higher position, such as a lawyer or a doctor, was entirely out of the question too. I was clumsy, and short-tempered, and those were two terrible traits for those positions. Not like there were more than maybe a few doctors in District 12 anyways. Most folks simply can't afford it, sadly enough. Though, most of those folks are the ones complaining about how hard and unfair life is. Well, life just isn't fair. Sooner they learn that, the sooner they can actually attempt to make their situation better.

Finally dressed, I walked out of my cozy bedroom directly into the kitchen, where two plates of scrambled eggs and fried potatoes sat on opposite ends of a round and rickety grey table. I sat down at the table, where my aging grandfather sat as well, about to dig into his plate. He began only after I sat down; He called it courtesy, something which he claims District 12 doesn't have anymore. Maybe in a way he's right.

The eggs were cooked well enough, although the potatoes did taste a bit bland. Noticably absent was any kind of meat, which grandfather does like to put into each meal. He says that meat keeps men strong. I supposed my confusion over the lack of meat was apparant to my grandfather, who then softly said, "Maliya, down at the marketplace, didn't have any meat that was affordable for us."

"Affordable?" I rose an eyebrow. "You mean we don't have enough money to buy meat anymore or the prices are rising?"

"Both," he sighed, letting his old and ragged face lose it's tension. "It's nothing you need to worry about, Collin. Go on and eat your breakfast."

"You know grandfather, I can work if we don't have enough money. Honestly, it isn't a problem." I only wanted to help my grandfather out. He still worked, albeit not in the mines. Grandfather worked at one of the shops near the marketplace. The money wasn't much at all, but it was enough for us. Grandfather was lucky though. He was at the age of 59, and most men his age, if they even lived that long, were almost certainly retired. But my grandfather had always pushed past standards.

He simply shook his head. "You remember the deal we had. It was hard enough letting you take tessarae-"

"But grandfather-"

"'But grandfather' nothing. Listen Collin, we'll be alright. I promise you that, okay?" There was a silence for a long time as Collin set his empty plate aside. After a long while, grandfather asked, "Do you want to get in one more lesson before the reaping?"

Slowly, I nodded. Ever since my grandfather had gained custody of me when I was 6 after my parents died, he had given me lessons in history using some old and dusty books he found years ago. How he found them, I had no clue, but the collection had countless histories of various civilizations, and a world before Panem. It was wondorous. However humble my grandfather was, history was the one thing he embraced. Of course, being in posession of these ancient tomes was very illegal. It was a well guarded secret between myself and my grandfather, to say the least.

Although my grandfather in many ways was similar to a traditional and caring grandfather, he in many other ways wasn't. He was intrepid and brave and daring. His sense of humor appealed to me and we would often spend our free hours just trying to make the other laugh. While I could barely remember my own parents, my grandfather had stepped up and become more than just a fatherly figure. He became my mentor. Through history we both found ways to escape into our own world before the world we live in. We were able to watch a house of cards get built up only to be knocked down, historically speaking of course.

"Ooh, looks like we left off on... World War 2."

"Another World War?" I grunted, before shaking it off, already eager to learn new information. Grandfather simply nodded and began reading with an exaggerated older voice, which elicited a light chuckle from me.

I had always wondered what the world we lived in was like before Panem, when legions of soldiers roamed the Earth and various countries waged war against each. I had wodnered what a life in a democratic country was like.

Whatever old countries that once stood on this ground were gone now, gone like the morning dew.

* * *

 **Petunia Wellworth - District 12 Female - 14**

As I walked in my home, I could already hear my Aunt yelling at Jake and Sam, my younger cousins. If she kept it up her children would grow up to despise her, similar as to how I did. Hell, more than half of the time _I_ was the one raising Jake and Sam, not their own parents. Lucy helped me out sometimes too but she mostly tries to keep to herself, and sometimes is barely even a part of family. At least Lucy doesn't treat me poorly and talks to me occaisonally, she just has her own issues to handle.

Lucy has admitted to me that even she sort of resents her mother, for never being affectionate, and barely providing for us. Besides Linda, Lucy has been the only other person that I've truly let me feelings out too regarding my Aunt and Uncle, and she seemed to understand completely. At least it was good to have somebody in the house that understood.

Setting my things in the room which I share with Lucy, my Uncle yelled at me from the old and rickity recliner they had in the living room. Something about grabbing him a beer. I took a deep breath and walked out into the kitchen, only to find an empty case of beer. I looked at him and softly said, "There's none left, Uncle James."

"None left?" His body moved up from the recliner as it retracted. "What do you mean there's none left?" His voice was gruff, with hints of concern grazing the tip of his tongue.

 _"No, this is how it always begins..."_ I thought, panic slowly rising before I forced my mind to calm down. I waited a few moments before I spoke again, and when I did, it was gently. "I mean that there are none left." Holding up the ripped case, I continued, "See? The case is empty."

Uncle James's voice rose, now with his tone changing from one of concern to one of anger. "Now see look, if you had been home last night, you would've known that I was running low on beer, you idiot!

Keeping myself calm and composed, I brought up another point, still maintaining my gentle tone. "Uncle James, I'm not even sure if we had that money. Do you not remember the money you owe to Mr. Leighton?"

"To hell with Mr. Leighton. He's a damned snake and half-crazed fool like you! And that debt is not mine, it's yours!" He had belted so loud that even Lucy left our bedroom to see what was going on.

My voice faltering, I said, "What do you mean? That debt isn't mine, Uncle."

"It is now." His voice contained no emotion save for one of cold anger. "We'll call it punishment for leaving the house last night and leave it at that."

Aunt Sophia yelled from the other room, agreeing. "No more leaving this house at night, period!"

"Okay... Yes ma'am..." Without another word, I ambled over to my room. Looking in the mirror, I noticed a few tears sliding down my pale face, even paler than usual. Wiping them away quickly, I shook it off and grabbed my dress I had planned for the day, a simple hand-me-down white dress. It wasn't much, but it had apperantly belonged to my mother when she was my age. Stripping down and dressing myself once more, I took another look in the mirror. The tears had stopped, and my face was dry once more. I examined myself, noticing how I had gotten thinner, and how my curly brown hair seemed to be pushing slightly past my neck, and how my grey eyes seemed to look colder than normal, like a brewing storm. Many said that for my age, I was quite short.

Despite my tears having dried up, I didn't understand why Uncle James was being so mean today. I mean he was usually rude, but this was something else. It was almost like there was something underneath his skin just bothering him. Was I that something under his skin? I didn't know. I never knew.

Lucy slowly walked into our room, already dressed in what she planned to wear to the reaping. After a silence, she muttered, "I'm sorry, about my dad. He's just being a dick right now."

I looked over at her and smiled thinly. "No, no, it's alright Lucy. It's quite alright." And in truth, that was correct. I was calm. I would be fine.

The horns blared, signifying that it was time for people to head to the reapings. Taking a deep breath, I nodded, and walked out of the door by myself without looking back. My house wasn't too far away from the town square, but it would still be a little bit of a walk. The entire walk, I was alone. Even Linda wasn't by my side, but I needed a little bit of solitude anyhow after my spat with my uncle earlier. Usually I would even be friendly to them, or as friendly as could be, but it was getting harder to maintain it, now more than ever.

The town square was up before me, and already I could see a huge line of other children like me waiting to get signed in. Making my way over, I got into the back of line. Reapings always shook me up a bit. Considering the fact that my name was in 21 times and I was only 14, the likelihood of getting reaped by the time I was 18 was very high. I would hate to go into the Games. They're so... awful. It was the best way I could describe it. The Capitol was Awful, the Hunger Games were awful.

As I neared the entrance, I felt fear creeping up onto my heart. This was the way it had been for the past two reapings as well. " _You'll be fine. You will be alright. Don't panic._ " My thoughts to myself seemed to calm me down some. I approached the check-in table, smiling lightly. "Hi." My voice was still soft, but slightly shaky. The peacekeeper didn't react before drawing blood and checking her through.

"You're good." That was all the masked peacekeeper said. Hurrying ahead, I joined the 14 year old section and hopelessly searched for Linda by scanning the 15 year old section, only to find a sea of white dresses and grey dress shirts. I sighed, and decided to wait patiently for the reaping to begin.

Before anybody was even on stage, the usual video that plays before the reaping began, speaking of the atrocities of war and why the Hunger Games were in place. Lies. All of what it said were lies; propaganda, Linda's father once called it. The video soon ceased, and the Justice Building door opened.

A rather tall man in a bright orange suit, with wavy hair the color of fire, pale skin, and a serious and somber face, proceeded out onto the stage from the Justice Building, followed by the mayor and two girls, one considerably older than the other one, who looked younger and prettier. The former was Eleyna Mallard, the Victor of the 35th Hunger Games. Despite only being 46, her looks surpassed her age, unfortunately. The latter was Melisia Granger, the victor of the 58th Hunger Games. The two victors took their seats while the escort began.

The escort must have been new this year, because I didn't recognize him. Tapping the mic to make sure it worked, he quickly began. "Welcome to the Reaping for the 64th Annual Hunger Games. I would prefer to get straight to it, so, as is tradition, a female shall be chosen first." As he clicked the button on the computer atop stage, it seemed like the world nearly stopped.

"Linda Preslen."

And that's when my world shattered.

I could see Linda slowly and hesitantly emere from the crowd, making her way out into the clearing. More importantly, I could see the tears on her face. There weren't many, but there were some. I could feel layers and layers of bricks fall upon my heart, hammers smashed into my chest. Linda was the one person I had left. She was the only one I could be with and not worry.

It wasn't an impulsive decision by any means, but I knew what would end up happening. Linda would go into the games, and most likely die. I hated to think it, I couldn't even bear the thought, but I knew something had to be done. Linda has a family, she has people around her. She was the only one I had.

"I volunteer!" I screamed, my calmness having escaped me finally. Gasping for breath, I ran out into the clearing only to see Linda's face peering back at me. I had to force myself to move forward to the stage, with Linda running straight to me.

"Why?" Her voice was strained. "Don't do this!"

All I could do was slowly shake my head. "It's too late now..." I turned to face away and continued up to the stage, two peacekeepers behind me and two peacekeepers ahead of me. As I climbed up onto the stage, the escort looked at me and said, rather unenthusaistically, "And what's your name?"

With my mental state having calmed down some, I looked down at the mic and muttered, "Petunia Wellworth."

As the escort congratulated me, the storms of thoughts inside my mind wouldn't cease. I was scared. I was upset.

Yet, I didn't regret volunteering at all.

* * *

 **Collin Lyons - District 12 Male - 16**

I had walked to the Reaping beside my grandfather. Despite his age, he was still very active, and was proud of that fact. I did have to say, for somebody who was nearing 60, and walked around with a cane, he was very lively, both physically and emotionally. Our walk to the town square was filled with their unfinished history lesson from earlier. We were still on World War 2, but were mostly focusing on Adolf Hitler at this point.

"With the Red Army in Berlin, Hitler, who would rather die than be captured, shot himself, while Braun bit into a cyanide capsule."

"Damn. Guess that's where 'bite the bullet' comes from."

Grandfather gave me a scolding look, before his face softened up. "What did I tell you about that word?"

"That it's not appropriate for use, yes, I know." I sighed. "I won't say it again."

"That's what you said yesterday," he chuckled, wiping beads of sweat off of his forehead. "If I had a credit for everytime you said you wouldn't swear again, we'd be as rich as the Capitol."

I looked over at him and grinned. It was true, I was never the most patient person, and I was always the first one to get mad over something. Grandfather called it a fatal flaw. He says that fatal flaws can bring a person's downfall if they're not careful.

My grandfather looked over to me. "We are nearing the Square now. We shall continue this lesson later. It's too dangerous to continue it this close to all of the peacekeepers." I nodded in response, agreeing. Our number one rule was to not let knowledge that we read history to fall into the hands of anybody, especially a peacekeeper. What we did was _very_ illegal.

We both jumped into line to get checked in, and after a long wait in line, we finally were in. My grandfather went off to the adult section while I went off to join the 16 year olds. We both nodded at each other from a distance. It was what we did every year, so I could know that he could see me and was paying attention.

The escort was new this year, I had noticed after the video stopped playing. He didn't seem like a normal capitolite. His expression was plain and rather dark, I found, and he stood straight and seriously. "Welcome to the Reaping for the 64th Annual Hunger Games. I would prefer to get straight to it, so, as is tradition, a female shall be chosen first." After a click, he said, "Linda Preslen."

I didn't know who she was. She looked to be fairly young though, probably 15 or under. Not much time passed before a scream erupted from the 14 year old section. A volunteer. District 12 hadn't had a volunteer for a decade or so. The Hunger Games was already a death sentence for most as it was, a strong reason was certainly needed to volunteer. Perhaps the volunteer was the sister of this Preslen girl, or a dear friend.

My theory on her being the sister was disproved when she stated her name. Petunia Wellworth. I didn't recognize the name at first, but when I saw her face, and her brown eyes, I remembered a vague memory years ago. We had talked while we both happened to be in town, that was all, but I remembered her as being quiet and friendly, along with her voice being gentle.

"Now, for our male tribute." The escort clicked the button again, and when he said the name, my jaw dropped.

"Collin Lyons."

At first I felt paralyzed. My arms and legs felt stiff, and my heart felt heavy. I glanced over to where my grandfather was, and while at first he looked shocked, he nodded, as if telling me to move. The eyes of my peers stared straight at me, piercing my very soul. " _Move_ ," I thought to myself, trying to convince my legs to move. Slowly, and clumsily, they shuffled back and fourth out into the center aisle, where to peacekeepers were waiting. I forced myself to move forward. I felt a warm tear leave my eye and slide down my cheek, and then another, and another.

One of the peacekeepers behind me pushed me forward, in an attempt to speed up my walk. I took the note and despite my tears, I walked faster up to the stage, until I was finally on it looking across the District's people, whose faces were somber. They had their heads down, as if attempting to not look at the newest batch of dead kids.

I racked my brain trying to find old presidential quotes, to try andcalm myself down. Theodore Roosevelt? Ronald Reagan? Everything I had learnt seemed to disappear. I tried to remember anything, anything at all, but the only thing I could remember was, "May the odds be ever in your favor."

I cried even harder.

* * *

 **Petunia Wellworth - District 12 Female - 14**

The peacekeepers put me into a room inside the Justice Building. It was rather plain, with two armchairs and table with a glass of water on it. I needed to suit down after the events of the past couple hours. On the bright side, at least my aunt and uncle wouldn't be bothering me anymore, and Linda won't have to go into the games. On the negative side, I would have to. I took several deep breaths, attempting to keep myself calm. I would have to be strong, for myself, and for Linda.

The door was opened by a peacekeeper on the other end, whose masked voice said, "You have three minutes." Linda than rushed in after, immediately going to me for a hug. Holding me tightly before letting go, she backed up a step and looked me in the face, her face still wet with tears. "Why did you volunteer for me? Do you know how dangerous the Games are?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes, I know. But please, you have to understand my reasons, Linda. Do you remember when you first met me?"

"Yes, why?"

"You know how depressed I was then. I had _nobody_ until you showed up into my life. I was alone. I wanted to die." Old and scarred memories were torn up and bled anew in my mind. "And then when I became friends with you, everything turned upside down. Yes, my home life was terrible still, but at least I had you there. If I had just sat there and let you get reaped and thrown into the Arena, I wouldn't have anything to live for anymore. I would've been alone again. I would've been the same person I was before you found me."

We were both silent for a few minutes, until Linda hugged me once more. She said nothing but the words, "Thank you." The door opened once again. "Time's up," the peacekeeper stated, his vocoder hiding his voice.

Linda broke off from me. "Win for me."

"I will." I gave her one last smile after she exited through the doorway and looked back, before the door was closed by the peacekeeper.

After that I was alone. None of my family members visited, not that I really expected them too. Lucy, I thought maybe would visit, but I didn't expect the others to. It wasn't that big of a deal. I got to say goodbye to the one person I actually wanted to say goodbye to.

I had a feeling as though that would be the last time I ever saw Linda.

* * *

 **Collin Lyons - District 12 Male - 16**

When I was placed in the waiting room, as one of the peacekeepers called it, I still had tears streaming down my face. My entire world had been turned topsy-turvy, everything I ever knew seemed to have escaped me. I had been reaped. I was going to have to enter an arena, and kill people, unless I was killed first. It went against everything I've ever learnt and believed in. It was barbaric.

I yelled in a mix of melancholic anger and frustration, punching the armchair before me. Inside my mind was a building storm of rage and sadness, which never let up on it's relentless downpour. Only the storm was the entire damn country, and the rain was the Games. I was too hysterical to even think straight. How could I think straight? I was just given a death sentence by the Capitol for a crime I never committed! I was tied up and tried guilty for being born in District 12 and not having been born in the Capitol! Hell, they might as well strap me to a tree and kill me via firing squad, it would make everything a hell of a lot easier than being made a public figure! "Oh my, look at the poor tributes of District 12, how sad, maybe he'll survive past the bloodbath?" or "I wonder how long District 12 will last this year," will be on the lips of every goddamn Capitol citizen as they watch their equivalent of roman gladiators fight each other. To them, it's just a game, we're not people, why should we be? The Districts are only the ones that supply them with _everything_ they ever needed!

As my mental rant finished, I fell to my knees, taking in deep and raspy breaths. It felt like my lungs were constricting down so even the biggest airways were barely even existent. It felt like my heart was shrivelling up into dust, and every other damn internal organ was slowly dying with it in an excruciating blaze. I attempted to focus, to clear my mind, only to find myself even more frustrated.

Through the storms of my mind, I heard the door into the room open, followed by the clicking of a cane. Forcing myself off the ground, I turned slowly to face my grandfather. He didn't look like he was taking this latest blow very well either, but he had always been better at controlling his emotions than me. I could tell without even needing to look myself in the mirror my face was moist with tears, and red with anger. My ashy blonde hair, which was neat before, or at least as neat as you can get curly hair to be, felt frizzy and all messy.

Grandfather hend out his hand and motioned for me to come forward. Unable to control myself, I quickly embraced him and rested my head onto his shoulder. He did his best to comfort me, placing a hand on my back and rubbing it gently. "There, there," he soothed me with his softly and grandfatherly voice. "Everything will turn out fine, okay?" As my mental anguish slowly faded into nothing but background noise, he released me, while still holding onto my shoulders steadily.

"Collin, you're a bright boy. Don't let these Games stop you from living your life, okay?" He smiled at me, his eyes somehow comforting me through the glasses. "Remember everything we've learnt together, and remember it while you're in the Capitol, and while you're in the Arena. Remember all the wars we've studied, and all the strategies we've learnt. I believe in you. If your father and mother were still alive, I can guarantee that they would be very proud of you, and I _know_ that they would believe in you. Just keep your mind clear, and it will lead you to victory."

"Time's up."

My grandfather released his hold on my shoulders. "I love you Collin. Remember that." After reaffirming my love for the man I called grandfather, we locked eyes for a brief second and he lightly smiled before leaving, the door slamming shut behind him.

A new determination coursing through my veins, I whispered to myself, "I won't let you down."

* * *

 **A/N: And there we go, the District 12 Reaping is complete. Tell me what you think in the reviews, please! I'm still pretty new at this, and so my writing might be rusty, but I always hope to improve.**

 **I still have 16 available slots! D1M, D1F, D2M, D3M, D3F, D4M, D4F, D5M, D6F, D7M, D7F, D9M, D9F, D10F, D11M, D11F are all currently avilable, so if you have the time and you would like to, I would really appreciate it if you would submit. Please do note, as soon as a tribute is accepted, I will attempt to update the first chapter of this story, the information chapter, so the slot is registered as filled.**

 **I will be writing the District 8 Reaping next, so expect to see it within the week I hope.**

 **-Malrk**


	3. District 8 Reaping

**Penelope Batiste - District 8 Female - 15**

The moon was high in the sky, and the night air was made up of a perfect mix of warmth and chill. Sure, the smog of District 8 was a little bit less than pleasant in this section of the city, but it didn't bother me too much. I could barely notice it as I sat down on the dry grass. The neighborhood was silent and still, as was expected the night before a reaping. Most people just hunker down, for they would have nothing but the Games shoved down their throats for the next few weeks. Can't say I blamed them, after so long of seeing the Capitol glorify murder, it does tend to get sickeningly old. I turned to the pale blonde girl beside me. "Do you think the Games will ever stop?" I asked Ophelia out of the blue, her face lit by the moonlight.

She only shook her head. "No, not unless people do something about it. But I mean let's be honest, everybody is too scared to do anything right now."

I plucked a blade of grass, twirling it around in my fingers. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. It's just, people get so intimidated by the Games that they think it holds this power over them."

"Don't tell me you're thinking of rebelling against the Capitol now," Ophelia laughed lightly.

"No, that'd be stupid, it's just... I don't know how to describe it," I internally resigned, frustrated with my inability to put it into words.

Ophelia smiled and quietly tittered. "Come here." Scooting over on the ground, I accepted her embrace and wrapped my arms around her back. Our foreheads touched, and I could feel her warm and shallow breaths of air brush across my skin. The world around us seemed to sit still as our lips touched together briefly. We both slowly pulled our heads away, but stayed in the embrace, not wanting to break it.

And we stayed in that embrace for what seemed like ages. I would have let the entire world pass me by, as long as I could have stayed where I was now, with Ophelia. I had been friends with Ophelia for years and she had been one of my closest friends I'd ever known. We had both found our feelings for each other about 10 months ago, when we were both 14, and we had been dating ever since. I had already spent much time with her before we started dating, so naturally, when we did start dating, we spent about every waking second with each other. Not like there was much for me to do at home anyways.

I felt Ophelia slowly pull away from me, and the night air filled the gap. Her eyes closed and her facial expression indicated that she was troubled by something. Placing my hand on her face, I gently asked, "What's wrong?"

Ophelia hesitantly looked up to face me. "Penelope, you know how I feel about you." Her voice seemed very slightly strained, and the way she talked made it sound like the start to a monologue. "We're 15. You have your issues with your family, and I have my issues with mine. We both have issues, I guess. I just don't think I'm ready to have a serious relationship right now. I thought I was ready, I really did. I was wrong. Just, something has felt wrong the past two months, and I know you've felt it too."

My brain slowly registered that she was breaking up with me. At first, I was speechless. I had felt similarly over the past few weeks or so. I thought of it just as a feeling that would pass. Maybe Ophelia was right. Maybe it wasn't the right time to get serious about a relationship. I loved her, and I would go to hell and back for her, but perhaps the relationship we had both idealized at the start wasn't attainable at the moment.

"You're right, Ophelia," I said quietly. Pushing myself off of the ground. "Maybe now isn't the right time for a relationship."

"Penelope-"

"No, Ophelia, I've felt it too. I've felt it for a couple weeks now. I think maybe we do need a break." The peacefulness and serenity of earlier was gone, as only a lingering awkwardness remained.

Ophelia got up, and we both looked into each other's eyes. Finally, she said, "I still want to be friends with you, Penelope."

"So do I," I murmured in response. After a long and awkward silence, I relinquished the conversation by saying, "I suppose I'll see you tomorrow after the reaping?"

"Yes," she quietly replied.

I turned away and hesitantly began walking out of the yard, about to walk back home. I was left confused on what had just happened. I was hoping that her and I could still be friends, but something felt very wrong. I'd have to think about it more when I woke up in the morning. In truth, I was confused. I had such strong feelings for Ophelia but apparently we both felt the need to take a break. Did I do something wrong that caused all of this for the both of us?

Why did it hurt so much?

* * *

 **Thomas Aaron - District 8 Male - 12**

School was let out early today, for the Reaping. The teachers never talked much about the Hunger Games, only ever mentioning the basics, such as a male and a female being chosen in each district, and how only one comes back from the Games. Of course, my parents would kill them if they learnt they were even talking about the Hunger Games at all. Each year they forbid me from watching the Games. They say I'm too young, and that I don't need to worry about it.

I don't really have many friends at school, and that's mainly because both of my parents are afraid that I'll be exposed to the "bad" things in the world if I talk to those who are unprotected. I'm scarcely even allowed to leave my home other than to go to school. It's ridiculous, and demeaning, and most of all embarrassing. I was the only kid at my school who had "weird" parents. It sucks to have to go in every day to school and get weird looks. My parents were helicopter parents, taken to every single extreme. It very much annoyed me. At least my 19 year old sister, Eleanor, tries to fight on my behalf. I never observed any arguments directly, but I would often hear her arguing with our parents in another room, behind closed doors. At least she doesn't try to hide me from the world and all that is supposedly terrible about it.

My walk home from school was rather lonely. The sky was a pale grey overcast as opposed to the night before, and everything in the air screamed about an oncoming storm. It was too calm for nothing to be going on. As I neared the street corner that would lead to my house, nobody seemed to be outside. Of course, I lived in a quieter neighborhood, but even for my neighborhood it was unusually lonely.

My house was a modest one. My parents owned a shirt factory, which is also where I work for free. The money they made was enough to afford an alright house, decent food, and decent clothing, with a little bit of money leftover. The factory, from what I heard, isn't one of the top factories in the District. I never know much about it though, as it's yet another thing that my parents refuse to tell me about. You'd think they would at least tell their own son, who _works_ at that factory more about what goes on inside of it.

I entered the house silently. The TV to the left was on some Capitol channel. Checking around to make sure nobody was around, I sat down at the couch and looked on. On the screen was a single man who appeared to be a young adult. He had bright green hair arranged back into a bun. His face was clean shaven, and underneath him on the TV it said, "Ceasar Flickerman, Master of Ceremonies for the 64th Annual Hunger Games."

His voice gave the impression of a charismatic and well-spoken man. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the 64th Hunger Games are literally just around the corner. Very soon here each District will have it's Reaping, and we will get our first glimpse into what this year's Games will be like. Which Tributes will we love, and which ones will we-"

The TV suddenly switched off, and I whipped around to find my mother behind me. With an inquisitive voice, she asked, "What did I tell you about watching TV?"

"Not to watch it," I grunted with muted anger.

"Precisely. Now, go up into your room and get yourself dressed. You know that today is an important day."

"But you never tell me why it's-"

"Go now dear," she ordered in her high pitched voice. Nodding, I got off the couch and went upstairs, a hurricane quietly brewing within me. Why were my parents so overprotective so as to not even let me watch TV.

Sometime soon, I will have to prove to them that I don't need to be protected like a baby.

* * *

 **Penelope Batiste - District 8 Female - 15**

My bed was cool when I woke up from my sleep, my sheets and blankets in disarray as I had been sprawled out diagonally across my bed. A dirty plate laid on the ground beside my bed, left from whatever leftovers my mom had put out on the counter the night before, as she does every night. Dull light crept through my covered windows, and the clock on my wall read 9:52. The reaping would be in a couple hours. I rubbed my temple, a light headache present as soon as I sat up in my bed.

Throwing my blanket off of me, I pushed myself off the bed. I was only clothed in my undergarments, and made quick work to get changed into something decent. I pulled a dark green top over top my head. It wasn't too tight, and went down to my waist. I proceeded to put on the only pair of pants that would be "appropriate" for the Reaping on as well. After a look in the mirror, I sat down at the chair in my room, looking to relax, for I would have literally nothing to do for the next couple hours.

I regularly didn't go to school. I didn't see a need to, it's not like the classes I was in were too difficult. Hell, all it trains you for is how to work in a factory, and that was something I hated doing. I regularly worked shifts at the factory. The job was monotonous and mindless, and I absolutely hated it. I didn't like to think of my future much, or what it would entail. I hoped maybe one day I would own a shop of some sort on the good side of town, but the likelihood of somebody like me owning a shop was slim.

The school has called my parents on multiple occasions about me not attending school, but my parent's won't do anything other than tell me that I need to go to school more. My relationship with my parents was rocky at best. Not to say that it was bad, but mostly non-existent. I almost never see my dad. Whenever he gets off of work he eats somewhere else, and then he goes to sleep almost as soon as he returns. My mother works as well, and she's often out, same as my dad. If she's talking to me, she's most likely making some sort of snarky comment about something I'm doing. Funny how she can scold me when she barely even knows who I am.

Relaxing back into my chair, I popped one of the few records I had into my record player. The record contained a few different slow piano songs. Some might say my choice in music is too depressing. So what? You don't hear me calling their choice in music too happy. Steadily, three separate pianos began playing a melodious tune, with echoes of anger and sadness lingering in the keys.

I tried not to think about the previous night's events. It is what it is, and I saw no point in musing and brooding over what happened. I knew that interaction with Ophelia was inevitable, and that I would have to talk to her eventually. The only thing was, I wasn't sure what we were anymore, whether we were partners, lovers, or best friends. It was all too confusing.

A couple minutes soon turned to a couple hours, and before I knew it the horns began sounding off throughout the District. " _Here we go_ ," I thought to myself, standing up from my chair and putting my shoes off. I quickly examined myself in the mirror, noticing my cedar skin and short and curly black hair. I had never been that tall, keeping steadily at 5'2", along with staying light at 115 pounds. Nodding to myself, I left my room, and following that, the house.

I found myself quickly engulfed by the sea of other citizens of District 8. " _Go with the flow_ ," I mused. I needed to go the same way as the crowd was anyways, for the same exact reason. When I thought about it, my name would be in 8 times this year. I took tessarae for myself, and for myself only. Although I of course had the option of taking tessarae out for my parents as well, I had decided years ago that putting my name in that many times wouldn't be worth it.

I neared the entrance to the town square and quickly got signed in. I walked over to the section containing other 15 year olds, where I stood quietly, with my head raised high. No matter what, I wasn't going to look like another scared District girl like so many of the others. I was anything but scared. The Games, nor the Capitol, intimidated me.

The mayor of the District, a pompous and fat man, exited the Justice Building and looked around across the District. He sat down just as a thin and tall girl exited the Justice Building, the District's escort, Caesonia Clodian. If anything, she was the most flamboyant capitolite I had ever laid my eyes on. An elderly male and a middle-aged female exited after them, and took their seats atop stage. They must've been the two mentors this year. District 8 only had four victors.

"Ahem," Caesonia began. She had hot pink hair, arranged in a small bun atop her head, and her face looked to be caked in yellowish white makeup. Her dress was oddly enough, a deep sea blue, and appeared to be made out of a synthetic textile most likely produced by my District. "Greetings to all of District 8! Welcome to the Reaping for the 64th Annual Hunger Games. We have an exciting day here, oh my! Now, before anything, here is a video straight from the Capitol that we must watch."

As the video played, I tuned it out with my head as I usually did. All it was anyways was simple bullshit straight from the men in charge at the Capitol. Caesonia, as usual, enjoyed the video and very publicly displayed it with her face of delight. Her face seemed to somber up a bit when the video ended. Oh how the Capitol loves their Games.

"Now, we shall go ahead, and decide who will have the honor of representing District 8 in this year's games. Ladies first, of course." A long pause ensued as she peered upon the screen of the laptop. "Now... the female tribute for District 8 will be Penelope Batiste."

My heart nearly stopped. Beam after beam crashed down inside my chest, and possibly for one of the first times ever, I felt like breaking down, and for a moment I began to. It was only then that I remembered that breaking down would be what the Capitol would want me to do. I didn't want to appear weak before I was even in the Games. No, despite what just happened, I would have to be strong, not for anybody else, but for my own sake. I couldn't let these Games get the best of me.

I _won't_ let these Games get the best of me.

* * *

 **Thomas Aaron - District 8 Male - 12**

"Thomas!" I heard my mother yell from downstairs just as I was done getting dressed. Rushing out of my room and downstairs, I found both of my parents dressed up in probably the best clothes they had in their wardrobe. They always had said that Reaping Day was an important day, and that you shouldn't look like a "bum" on days like that. They had insisted that I put on the best piece of clothing in my wardrobe.

My mom put a hand on my head and scruffed up my hair. "Mom," I sighed in embarrasment.

"Don't 'mom' me, Thomas." She had a smile on her face, until it slowly faded away. "Now you listen to me here, this will be the first year that you go into the big kid section, okay?"

"You don't need to talk to me like I am a toddler, mom," I mumbled in annoyance.

"Speak clearly, Thomas Aaron." My mother's voice was briefly stern, before she softened up again in the next statement. "Now, there will be a video that will play for you, and I won't be there to cover your ears so you'll have to do that yourself. Do you understand? Do not take those hands away from those ears until the video is done."

"Yes mom," I murmured, "I understand."

She sighed. "We will have to work on fixing that mumbling problem of yours." She shook her head slowly and smiled, rubbing my head one more time before going off into the kitchen. Eleanor walked down the stairs in a modest white dress, her long black hair now in a ponytail. She smiled as she walked down the last step. "You're looking snazzy, little brother."

"Thanks, Eleanor." I lightly smiled back. Eleanor's compliments always seemed to cheer me up a bit.

"You'd best get your shoes on, we should be leaving here for the Reaping shortly," Eleanor suggested, getting her own shoes on as well.

Leaning in close, I decided to ask, "Could you explain to me what this is all about? Like the Reaping and everything."

"To be honest, Thomas, this isn't the place nor time to tell you."

I was quite disappointed with her answer. "That's what mom and dad say," I muttered in displeasure. I was hoping at least Eleanor would tell me. She had always championed for my right to knowledge.

Eleanor pondered over it for a moment, and then whispered, "I'll tell you after. I can't say anything with mom and dad around. Does that satisfy you?"

I nodded, and then proceeded to smile lightly. My mother entered back into the room followed by my father. "Now, we should probably get-" The intense blast of the horn rumbled throughout the house, clearly startling my mother. "Well, there it is, haha. Let's get going, yes?" Together, we walked out of the house, making our way with the other citizens to the Justice Building, same as every other year. Only, this year felt different.

The foreboding Justice Building was soon in sight, standing out with it's silver-colored bricks and tall central tower. It was the black sheep of buildings in District 8. After bearing through a line that seemed to stretch half of a mile long, I was finally checked in with the prick of a finger and a scan of my blood. I found myself quickly lost in the massive crowd of other people. I looked around, trying to find Eleanor, or my father, or _somebody_. I had no idea where I was or where I was supposed to be.

It was only when I caught eye of a fellow classmate walking towards a section with the youngest looking kids that I managed to orient and compose myself. Before I knew it, I had made my way over to the 12 year old section and joined my peers. Now, I supposed it was just a waiting game before anything happened.

The low murmur echoing throughout the crowd died down as the mayor walked out on stage, followed my an eccentric, pink-haired woman who stood tall and gracefully. Her face was white with hints of even and light yellow color. It looked like makeup. It probably was makeup, now that I thought about it. Despite how much my parents try to protect me, I do know that people from the Capitol are very eccentric when you compare them to the average joe from here.

She cleared her throat, and then proceeded to speak, "Greetings to all of District 8! Welcome to the Reaping for the 64th Annual Hunger Games. We have an exciting day here, oh my! Now, before anything, here is a video straight from the Capitol that we must watch."

On a screen mounted atop the Justice Building, images of skulls and fighting appeared. A deep and commanding voice boomed from the speakers, and I defied my mom's order to cover my ears, by well, not covering my ears. "War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned against brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage and sacrifice. The lone champion, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future."

I had been listening closely throughout the entire video, and attempted to decrypt what was said mentally. Tributes, fight to the death, lone champion. It all clicked now. The Games weren't as simple as 24 leaving and only 1 returning. It was a death-match. It was a death sentence basically. How could my parents _not_ have told me this when this is supposedly the first year I could go into the Games. How could they not tell me! It was... it was outrageous!

"Thomas Aaron!" The high voice shook me out of my thoughts to notice that everybody around me was looking at me. " _No, no, no. This can't be happening right now_!" I thought, my mind in hysterics.

Choked sobs could be heard from the adult section, and the strained screams of my mother could be heard. "Please! Somebody please! Somebody volunteer for him! He's only 12!" I turned my head around to see my mom crumple to the ground, tears streaming down her face. "Somebody do something please! Volunteer for him!" My father could be seen crouching down and comforting her, tears of his own collecting on his cheeks.

I could feel a gloved hand on my left arm, and looked up to see the black mask of a peacekeeper. The peacekeeper pulled me out into the aisle, where another one grabbed my right arm, and they both started pushing me up to the stage. I could feel my feet moving, but it didn't feel like I was the one moving them. This all didn't feel real, none of it did.

What would happen to me?

* * *

 **Penelope Batiste - District 8 Female - 15**

For a while I was numb. Not angry, not upset, just numb. I had been reaped. Even just trying to comprehend the recent events boggled my mind. Two peacekeepers had placed me inside of a small and lonely room in the Justice Building, where I thought over everything brewing in my mind. My breakup with Ophelia seemed trivial now when compared to the scope of the situation I was in right now. I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, _if_ I was going to be able to do it. Somehow though, some way, I would have to get through these Games.

My mother entered slowly, followed by my father. No matter how much they ignore me at home, at least they had the grace to say goodbye. My mom is the first one to hug me, although she does it in a tentative manner. I too, was hesitant wrapping my arms around her, and accepting the embrace. For a while we just stood there like that. I couldn't even remember the last time I had hugged my mother, in all honesty.

"You can win this, Penelope." That was all that she whispered into my ear at first. Then, she murmured, "I love you, even if I don't show it." She released the embrace, allowing my father to come in and envelop me in a hug of his own.

Dad slowly pulled away from our hug and looked at me. "I wish I had spent more time with you. I'm sorry." His face had a look of shame on it. Not shame at me, I assumed, rather shame at himself. "Good luck. Win."

The door soon opened to let my parents out, and they nodded before leaving me alone to my thoughts. The previous exchange had confused me slightly, for it had been the first time in years where I have had a solid and meaningful interaction between my parents. It wasn't the usual snippy comments, but they had expressed themselves emotionally. That, for some odd enough reason, left a big impact on me as I sat alone in the gloom of the room.

The door swung open not long after my parents left, with Ophelia standing in the doorway. Immediately standing up, we both rushed to each other and hugged tightly for a brief few moments, forgetting what had happened the night before, which seemed so insignificant compared to the troubles I faced now. Still embroiled in the embrace, Ophelia softly spoke, "Everything that's happened in the past 12 hours has been... too unreal."

We both pulled back steadily. Mumbling, I agreed with her. "Yeah, unreal is one word to describe it." I took in a deep breath. "I'm just so overwhelmed. I had nothing going on and then all of a sudden everything just crashes down on me, and I don't know how to react, or what to do." I wanted to say so much more than that, but I couldn't put it into words.

"You're scared..." Ophelia concluded, her voice still soft and quiet. "You're scared of the future," she said once more with a bit more confidence.

I shook my head no. "I'm not scared-" I attempted to argue.

"Yes you are. And you don't need to admit it, but I know that you're scared. And that's nothing to be ashamed about Penelope. If you weren't scared, you wouldn't be human." Her hand reached up to my face, brushing lightly across it. "You're smarter than you let on Penelope. Just don't let them know that." She dug through her pocket as I stood there speechless. Ophelia pulled out a rather janky and torn grey bandanna, two old and strange beads strung across it. "It's a bracelet. I was going to give it to you after the Reaping, but then this. I know, it doesn't look very pretty, but I made this out of rejects from the factory. Kind of like us, you know, the 'rejects of society'." A thin smile came to her face as she slipped it on around my wrist. I attempted to put on the best smile I could, considering the current situation, but it only ended up being light and thin as well. "Thank you Ophelia." It was all I could muster, and I hugged her again.

The door opened again, a peacekeeper stood at the doorway. Ophelia looked over to him and then back at me. "I still love you, no matter what happened last night, Penelope. I love you."

"Time's up," the peacekeeper insisted, his vocoder hiding his true voice. "Let's go, now."

I wasn't even able to get the words out before she was being dragged away. She yelled after me, attempting to say goodbye, but the sound of the door slamming cut her off.

I didn't know how to feel right now.

* * *

 **Thomas Aaron - District 8 Male - 12**

The past several minutes had whizzed around me in a confusing blur. When they put me inside of the waiting room, I had no clue what was going on. I had gotten reaped just as I was figuring out what the Games even were. What were the odds, huh? My mental state had calmed down slightly from earlier, but I was still in despair. I found it difficult to understand that I would be entering the Games, when I had just figured out what happened inside of them. It was complete madness. It was malarkey. My parents had kept everything sceret from me. How could they have protected the truth so well that I didn't know what was really going on in the world? They had attempted to draw a curtain and shield me from everything that now all it's done is cause more harm. I didn't know what I was unwillingly walking into, or what to expect.

The door creaked open, revealing my parents and my sister. Eleanor was the first one to run to me, tightening her arms around my back. My short and thin frame was easily engulfed by her's. "I'm so sorry this happened to you," She sobbed out, being just as comforted by me as I was by her. "Fate truly has cursed us."

I hesitantly returned her hug as she continued to sob, though the sobs soon faded off and away as she regained composure. I turned over to my parents. My mom still had tears running down her face, whereas my father's eyes had dried up, though that wasn't to say he wasn't still affected. With a shaky voice, I accused, "How could you have not _ever_ told me what the Games were! Now I don't even know what I'm going into!" I could hear my voice crack a few different times, causing my voice to fluctuate higher than it already was. "I'm going to die... I'm going to die..." I repeated softly, my mind seemingly giving up on coherence. I was hysterical at this point.

"No, don't say that Thomas! You're not going to die," Eleanor insisted. "How could you even say that?"

Eleanor's statement snapped me out of it. "How could I say that?" I replied inquisitively. "Eleanor, people _die_! You heard the video yourself. How do I stand a chance against an 18 year old, huh? Answer me that. I stand no chance! Look at me, I'm short, and scrawny, and I'm as weak as a slug. You know this to be true!"

"Then use it to your advantage," my father responded, his voice hoarse, and his breaths short.. "You're short and scrawny, so learn how to hide, and how to run. I hate that you're even in the situation where I have to give you advice in the first place, but it's too late for going back, now.

He crouched down to one knee so his face was level with my face. His eyes were red from crying, and his face was a significant shade of bright fleshy pink. "Y-Your mom and I tried to protect you because... we thought maybe your life would end up better if you weren't exposed to everything. We didn't want to put the horror of the Games on you. You were just a child. No child should _ever_ have to see that." He sighed, and brushed away a couple stray strands of hair strewn across my forehead with his hand. "I love you, Thomas. I hope you know that."

Speechless for a few moments, all I could stammer out was, "I love you too, dad." Despite the grave circumstances, my father mustered up a thin smile. When I looked at my mom, whose crying had briefly stopped, she looked at me just as more tears welled into her eyes.

"It's time." The foreboding voice of the peacekeeper had a slight echoe through the small room as he opened the door. "It's time to go."

My mom rushed over to me and hugged me tightly for one last time. "Stay as safe as you can. I love you!"

"Come on!"

"I love you, mom."

Eleanor and my father were already at the doorway. Just as the peacekeeper began to walk over to forcibly remove my mom from the room, she released me and paced over to the door, looking back one last time before the door was shut. My family had so much hope in me it seemed, like they thought I could do it. But did they really believe in me, or were they just trying to make the blow easier for me to deal with. It's hard to make a blow like getting reaped easy.

I was just given a death sentence.

* * *

 **A/N: I do apologize for the slow updates, work and school both have been quite daunting, but I should be able to get some good writing in over the Thanksgiving Break. That is all for now. Hope to get the District 1 Reaping out within the next few days.**

 **UPDATE: I did forget to mention, I still have a few slots open! D6F, D9F, D10F, and D11M are currently open!**


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